The Oxygen is Proving More than Words Could Ever Say
by morecolorfulmoniker
Summary: The moment when Emma was pulled out of the ocean in "The Heart of the Truest Believer" and Killian's reaction to it struck me so much that I started wondering what happened afterwards? What was going through his mind? And this is what I came up with. (Title was taken from David Cook's song "Rapid Eye Movement."


**Major thanks to Katie (hooked-on-jello on Tumblr and Sebs on ) for encouraging me to post this and not hide it away in a folder of fics I was too nervous to publish and for giving me the idea that inspired the wonderful title! Also thanks to Dani aka perpetual-estrangement for taking the time to read this before it was posted and for helping me to believe that others were seeing exactly what I saw in this moment.**

Not again. How could he allow history to repeat itself? And why had it taken him so long to see it?

He had watched her dive off the side of the ship, and suddenly the physical duel he'd somehow engaged her father in seemed meaningless. And just as he reached the side to look over, one of the pieces of the ship's rigging snapped loose and followed after her, plunging below the dark surface.

He'd kept his wits about him, played the role of the captain, ensuring that her father was tied securely to a rope as he, too, dove into the sea, despite everything inside of Killian pushing him towards the edge as well…compelling him to go after her. To save her.  
And then all of a sudden, there she was, lying on the deck of the Jolly, unmoving and lifeless.

_"I love you." _

_The most vivid memory he had in all his 300 years. She was lying on the deck of the Jolly, unmoving and lifeless, her heart crushed to dust in the hands of a monster._

And here he was, back at this moment, his own heart crushed beneath the weight of a loss far heavier than he'd ever felt. More overwhelming than he ever could have known.

And then, a choking cough. The sound of water leaving lungs. A breath being drawn in. He dared to look down, seeing a pair of emerald eyes gazing up at the suddenly clear night sky as a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding left his own body.

"I told you."

Before he realized it, he found himself standing in his cabin, his hand clutching his chest tightly, just as he had the very first time Rumplestiltskin had reached his own hand inside Killian's chest and held a tight grip on his heart. He could still feel it there, every frantic beat a constant reminder of what he had almost lost. Of what he had been unwilling to admit even to himself until it would have been too late.

Emma Swan was a part of him. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he felt as if he already knew her. And yet, she continued to be a mystery he longed to solve. She was strong-willed and stubborn and driven, but at her core, past the walls she'd built so high around her heart, she had been broken far more than even he realized. Lost souls, they were. Kindred spirits. But every moment that he spent with her, he felt closer to finding what he'd lost lifetimes before. And in her, he found something worth living for.

He fell with a sigh down onto the bed, burying his hand deep down into his pocket and producing the small scrap of metal he carried to sharpen his hook, if the occasion ever called for it or if he simply needed something to distract him from his own thoughts. He trained his eyes on the silver metal, not expecting it to be quite as dull as it was. Beginning to sharpen, he again lost himself in thoughts of the words he'd never said…words he wasn't sure he even should say, in the midst of the storm they had just faced and that was yet to come.

"Oh, don't stop on my account."

He looked down, the piece of scrap metal pressed against his hook, trembling slightly in his hand. He slowly resumed the sharpening without moving his eyes in the direction of the door, where he knew she stood.

"There are quite a few things I would do on your account, Love," he replied, startled by the shakiness in his voice. In an attempt to mask it, he continued. "Including letting your father win in a fight."

"Really? The deadly storm and lightning strikes said that you were trying pretty hard."

He heard the smirk he knew she was wearing in her voice as he could no longer fight his need to see her, to convince himself that she was still with him. As he turned and met her gaze, he was stunned, his breath leaving him for a moment at what he saw. It was as if he was seeing her for the very first time. Every wet curl of her blonde hair, every subtle change in the shade of green in her eyes…he saw it all through a different pair of eyes.

Even as she lowered her head, kicking nervously at the floor, her soaked boots squeaking and squishing as they hit the wood, he felt a surge of overwhelming emotion so strong that it would have knocked him to the ground had he been standing. The very fact that she was here, standing before him…alive…he'd seen many sights in his 300 years, cast his eyes on things beyond his own imagination, and yet he'd never seen anything more incredible than Emma Swan.

"So…thank you," she said softly when she finally brought her eyes to meet his again. "For everything."

"I couldn't let you or your father die, Lass. Wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I did," he said with a wink that didn't quite reflect the usual confidence he portrayed.

"You know that it's more than that. We wouldn't be here…I wouldn't be here…my son would be lost…if you hadn't…" she trailed off, as if at a loss for words, before quickly convincing herself to go on. "I should have told you before, and then when I almost didn't get the chance..." she hesitated again as Killian felt his stomach turn over at the thought. "So thank you."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you, Emma," he said, the feeling of saying her name burning through him like an open flame. "I spent many years here, in this land built on belief. And I believed in all of the wrong things. But without any reason, you believed in me when your world…and I…deemed me a villain."

Her eyes burned bright, a flash of color against the white of her pale skin as he saw a sudden realization flood her expression.

"I was trying something new, Darling. It's called trust," she finally said, returning his wink, though he could see the truth there…the understanding. Only she could read him in such a way…could see and know a side of him that he'd only ever revealed to one other person. "When I was told that I was the savior, destined to break a magical curse, I didn't believe. And when I met a pirate who I had only ever known from my favorite fairy tale as a kid and he told me that he would help me find a compass and get back to my son without betraying me, I didn't believe. So now when a pirate, who I know understands what it feels like to be lost and has never given me a reason not to trust him, tells me that he's going to help me find my son, I believe. Because I believe that you can be a hero, no matter what the world or even you may think."

She smiled, the most genuine smile he'd ever seen, and turned to leave without another word.

"Emma?" he asked just as she reached the door and turned back. "If you dive off my ship again, or put yourself in another situation like tonight, I won't hesitate to lock you in the brig." The underlying tone of fear and solemnity beneath his usual teasing tone caused her cheeks to burn red and her eyes to darken with guilt that she tried to shake but couldn't hide from him.

"Again? You're really into this, aren't you?" she quipped, though she nodded in silent understanding. He smiled, every memory he'd ever made with Emma Swan playing before his eyes as the possibility of the happy ending he would never deserve but had always hoped for became real to him for the first time in 300 years.

"Aye, Love."


End file.
